Landslide
by Phoenix-Talon
Summary: Prequel to Leather and Lace. Lacey the prostitute's first night with Mr. Gold. Smut.


Lacey was bored.

It was a slow night, the summer evening so humid it felt as though the very air was sweating. She had given up standing outside the bar, as most of her patrons had retreated into The Rabbit Hole's cool darkness. She sipped her frothy Guinness lightly, keeping her eyes peeled for prospects. Summer was good for business, she reflected. Summer allowed her to wear her most daring dresses cut to mid-thigh, dresses with plunging necklines that promoted the illusion that she had breasts. Still, it was Maine after all, so a red leather jacket was slung carelessly over her chair.

She yawned tiredly, popping a cashew into her mouth, idly staring at the television. Despite the advantages of summer, it did have its downsides—there was never anything on TV but reruns and soaps.

The door to the back opened and a sudden hush fell over the bar. Curious, Lacey swiveled, and watched with interest as Mr. Gold and the nervous barkeep spoke to each other in low voices. The barkeep handed him an envelope and Gold nodded, showing his teeth in a rather wolf-like grin, before tucking it into his suit coat.

All of Storybrooke feared Mr. Gold, Lacey reflected. He wasn't a large man by any means, and yet his presence cast a large shadow over the customers, all of them nervously avoiding his glance, staring doggedly at their drinks. He owned half the town, Lacey knew—he owned her apartment complex. She'd heard he was a ruthless man when it came to deals and contracts—no one dared break a deal with Mr. Gold.

All logic told Lacey that she should fear him too. There was no denying that most of the townspeople of Storybrooke's lives were in his hands. But it wasn't in Lacey's nature to be afraid.

Perhaps it was her fierce personality or perhaps it was her third Guinness buzzing through her veins, but Lacey made a rash decision. "Mr. Gold," She called out to him.

He turned at the sound of her voice, eyebrow lifting a bit. The barkeep glanced between the two nervously.

"Can I help you?" Gold asked coolly and Lacey felt a thrill of fearlessness shiver through her core.

"Maybe," She smiled winsomely. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in some company tonight."

A cold hush fell over the bar and the barkeep stared at her aghast. Lacey ignored him, staring fixedly at Gold, her hand curled around her drink.

"Some company," Gold considered her. It was hard to read his expression but she thought she might have surprised him a bit.

"My company," She grinned cheekily. "Specifically."

A slow smile spread across his face. Ignoring the barkeep, he walked over to her in smooth, easy strides. Lacey had never thought she could be turned on by a man leaning on a cane, but he seemed to do it with such confidence and pantherish grace, it made her knees weak.

"I might be interested," He rumbled and she noticed with delight his brogue had gotten thicker. There was a collective gasp from the onlookers—it was apparently too much for them to imagine that Gold was human enough to want sex.

But Lacey knew men, and no matter how feared, every man wanted sex. She smirked a little and leaned towards him, whispering something in his ear.

"Hm," Gold's eyes glittered. "I heard you work for less."

"Not for you, I don't," Lacey returned. Gold was the richest man in town and everyone knew it. He'd taken advantage of everyone's finances—now it was Lacey's turn.

His smirk grew broader. "Come with me," He growled, offering her his hand. Delighted, Lacey hopped off her barstool, grabbing her purse and jacket before he led her out of the bar. The customers watched fearfully, with grave solemnity in their eyes, as if they suspected they'd never see her again.

Once outside, Lacey grinned at him, leaning against the wall archly. "Your car?" She purred. Mr. Gold drove a lovely Cadillac, which ought to be roomy in the backseat.

"Oh, I think not, dearie," Mr. Gold's breath was hot in her ear, his arm curling around her waist. "If I'm going to have you, I'm going to have you my way."

Lacey shivered at the intensity in his eyes. She fingered the lapel of his suit thoughtfully. "And what way would that be?"

"I'm too old for creative settings, dearie," His voice was very low. "We'll go to my house."

This was a change of pace. Lacey was used to the backseats of cars or cheap motel rooms—even more curious, she didn't think anyone had ever _entered_ Mr. Gold's house, let alone stayed the night.

"All right," She said slowly. "How long you want me for?"

"I don't like sharing," Gold breathed, fingering a lock of her hair. "All night. Or no deal."

Lacey blinked at him in confusion. All _night_? She couldn't remember the last time a client was willing to pay for that much. Still…for the rates she was charging him, that was a lot of money…

"Okay then, Mr. Gold," She smiled slyly. "You have yourself a deal."

"Your house is pink."

Mr. Gold smirked as he shut the door behind them. "Pink is a lovely color."

"Shouldn't it be black?" Lacey challenged, removing her leather jacket. "Chrome trim?"

"That would be more to Mayor Mills' taste," Gold retorted, his gaze sweeping over her. She felt a little flushed as his eyes lingered on her legs and something unfamiliar fluttered in her chest—_butterflies_? This was just a normal job for her, why on earth should she be nervous?

Straightening, Lacey collected herself. She walked over towards him, smoothing the silk of his tie.

"You know," She murmured. "I'm surprised you took me up on my offer. You're a man of mystery, hm?"

He chuckled low in his throat, pressing his face into her hair, inhaling deeply. Lacey shivered as she felt his hand finger her hair, releasing her dark curls from its messy bun.

"A mystery to be uncovered," Lacey whispered. A strange shiver went through her body, almost like déjà vu—to her surprise, she noticed Gold had stiffened as well.

The odd moment passed and Lacey tilted her face towards Gold. She raised a hand to trace the outline of his cheek, feel the light stubble. Her thumb paused against his lips and he smiled against her hand, sending tingles down her spine. She charged extra for kisses…but she was so curious as to what he tasted like. It couldn't hurt to ignore her policy, just this once.

She licked her lips and something in his eyes flared as he slanted his mouth to hers. It seemed as though every nerve in her body caught on fire at the sensation of his lips, gently massaging hers with his tongue, asking for entrance. Feeling giddy with adrenaline and almost a bit dizzy, she clung to the lapels of his suit, holding on for dear life as he plundered her mouth with sensuous, gentle strokes of his tongue. He tasted like smoke and spice, _fucking incredible_, and Lacey didn't regret a bit not charging him for this.

His lips were so gentle against hers…it was hard to imagine hard, impenetrable, ruthless Mr. Gold as such a tender kisser. She moaned a little against him, her hands reaching up to card through his hair. His arms tightened around her waist almost painfully and she marveled at how soft his hair was. One hand edged up her ribs, fingers grazing the underside of her breast through the thin fabric. She moaned into the kiss and he palmed her fully, and suddenly she was desperate for her clothes to be _off._

Lacey broke away from him, gasping for breath. "Where—where's your bedroom?" She panted, trying to regain control of the situation.

His brown eyes gleamed a bit as he kissed her once more, brushing a curl away from her cheek. "This way," He breathed, leading her out of the foyer.

Lacey tried to keep her bearings, ingrain all of the strange sights into her mind for future reference, but it was impossible. She could only keep track of how it felt to have Gold's arm wrapped around her waist, pressing gentle kisses to her neck as he propelled her up the stairs. Gold seemed to be a pack rat; they nearly tripped over a cello in the middle of a hallway and Lacey was pretty sure they cracked a large vase, when she accidentally slammed her knee into it. Luckily, Gold didn't seem to care.

When they reached his bedroom, she pushed him onto the bed, straddling his lap. His lips graced her collarbone, leaving dancing nips and kisses across the sensitive skin of her throat, the sensations making her dizzy. She wasn't sure why he was affecting her this much—usually, Lacey always remained in control of the situation, from start to finish. Her risk in offering herself to Mr. Gold had seemingly thrown her off her game.

She took a shuddery breath, trying to grasp a foothold.

"What do you like?" She whispered, grinding her hips against him. "What do you want?"

His eyes seemed to sear hers as he hissed back, "You."

As he spoke, he turned over, rolling her on her back. The heat in his eyes made her tremble with anticipation—she felt as if he were devouring her whole. Her hands frantically scrabbled with the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt, desperate for it to be gone. He paused an instant, leaning back, his eyes never leaving hers. Lacey watched him with feverish intent as he briskly removed his tie, flinging it away. Somehow that simple act of untying his tie brought her closer to the edge than she could have ever dreamed.

She slid her hands up his shoulders, desperate to remove his shirt and waistcoat. Gold was a lean man, with wiry strength in his arms, and Lacey wondered at how she'd never noticed before. She drew designs across his skin, her tongue gently circling his nipple, enjoying his harsh exclamation.

She felt his hands fumble against the clasp of her black dress, impatiently unzipping it. Her limbs felt like rubber when she felt his calloused fingers caress her bare back. Hurriedly, she slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders, eager to have it off, desperate to have nothing between them.

It occurred to her that this was also strange. There had never been heat or passion with a client that Lacey did not feign. There had never been a session that Lacey had not called the shots, known exactly what she would do and when. And yet, all of her cool logic and placid control had disappeared. She _wanted _Mr. Gold, so much it made her head spin.

Her dress joined his tie on the floor and she keened like a cat when she felt his hot mouth envelop her breast. His tongue flicked against her nipple, sending electric waves of pleasure straight between her legs. She'd never thought her breasts were particularly sensitive for all that her clients enjoyed touching them—and yet when Mr. Gold palmed and tasted her breasts, it nearly made her eyes cross.

He wasn't done, not by a long shot. To her shock, he left her breasts, leaving long, lingering kisses down the expanse of her belly. He nipped hard just above her bellybutton, leaving a small mark, a possessive gesture that made her bury her fingers in his sheets.

Gold paused just above her thighs. Lacey watched him, in fascinated shock as he gave her a feral grin. She couldn't remember the last time a client had wanted to do this—this was completely backwards, she should be going down on him, not…

Her cry was sharp and hoarse when she felt his hot tongue plunge between her folds, lapping mercilessly. His searing licks and nips were agile and experienced—he knew exactly what he was doing, and the pleasure was so intense, she felt like she was burning. He couldn't _possibly _be enjoying this—and yet, she heard his murmurs and slurps of pleasure vibrate against her thighs, his fingers digging into her bare hips as he bit and sucked.

"_God, Mr. Gold_," Lacey howled, snatching at his hair, burying her fingers into his scalp. She heard him chuckled low in his throat as his tongue and teeth tweaked her clit hard, sending her over the edge, waves of pleasure surging through her.

She tugged his head towards her, bringing him up to her lips for a damp and salty kiss. She tasted herself in his mouth and moaned at the flavor, loving his low throaty chuckles.

Somewhere between pleasuring her and kissing her, he'd removed his pants and boxers. His skin _burned _against hers, and it felt so incredibly _right_ to have him naked against her, nipping and licking every bit of skin they could manage. He pushed into her hard, without warning or pretense, and Lacey welcomed all of him, keening like a cat.

She shoved him over, letting herself sit astride him, setting the pace. She was far too gone for any gentility or tenderness, she wanted it rough, she wanted it ruthless, she wanted it—she stopped herself. What was she thinking? What _she_ wanted? That defied every rule in the hooker's handbook.

"What's the matter?" Gold asked hoarsely, reaching up to cradle her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Lacey said immediately, trying to regain her senses. "I just—I'm being selfish…what—" He interrupted her with a languid, sensual kiss, burying his fingers in her dark curls.

"None of that," He purred. "I want you to be selfish." His husky voice made her bones turn to water and she let him fall back against the bed. Her mind was turning to steam anyway, she couldn't think of anything but being as close to him as possible, riding him hard and brutal, letting herself absorb every bit of him.

His hips rose up to meet hers, his nails clawing up and down her back. Lacey was so close, she could feel her orgasm building in intensity, and she was ready to scream it out, let it flood her entire being. Mr. Gold seemed aware of everything, his hand reaching to where they were joined, rubbing and pinching her clit mercilessly.

"That's right, Lacey," He said in a gravelly voice as she slammed into him. "Come for me, darling…"

Her orgasm hit with so much intensity, for a minute, she thought she had passed out. She shook violently as it consumed her, howling out his name. So lost in the explosive heat boiling through her veins, she was barely aware of his hips jerking into her, groaning out his own release.

Lacey wanted to ride the high forever. It felt like she was flying, taking him with her, but eventually she came to herself. Feeling exhausted and boneless, and slumped against him as he crashed backwards into the pillows.

She didn't know what to say, and oddly enough, she felt shy. His fingers lazily stroked her back and she counted his breaths, pressing her forehead into his shoulder, trying to understand what had just happened.

She lay in his arms for so long, wondering what to do, that she actually dozed off. Near dawn, she jolted awake, startled.

She had been lying next to him, and she realized that somewhere during the night, Mr. Gold had moved. She also noticed an envelope had been placed on top of the dresser. Reaching out, she grabbed it, and saw that it was full of cash. He must have done this…while she was sleeping.

The passion and heat of their night together had almost made her forget who she was. She was not his girlfriend, his lover. She had no right to him. She was Lacey the whore, and he had paid for her services, fair and square.

Her heart felt heavy. There was something like regret in her chest, but there was no time to acknowledge it. Getting out of bed, she hunted around for her dress, slipping it on. She had probably kicked off her heels in the foyer.

Lacey turned to gaze a little at Mr. Gold. He looked wonderfully peaceful when he was asleep. So unguarded, almost vulnerable. How long had it been since someone had seen him like this? She may have been a whore, but she felt a little pride at being one of the few people who had access to this side of him.

Bending her head down, she kissed him gently on the cheek, before exiting the bedroom, and heading home.


End file.
